A Bridge Between
by Wyrm XIII
Summary: After an intervention goes awry, Andrew is forced to change schools and is met with some... unexpected circumstances. The first chapter starts off kind of slow, but don't worry about that. Rated T  for things yet to come.


A Bridge Between

Hello world! I'd have to say that this is more or less the first time that I've written anything of this sort, so don't be too hard on me. Please read, please review, and please tell me what you honestly think.

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Chapter 1: The Storyteller

Andrew loved the fair. Ever since he had started going ten years ago (that made him 16 to date), he had loved it. The food stalls set up by the adults of the town of Annen, Utah (born, raised, and had never left), the games scattered around the field, the mayor's tent, where one could enter in any one of several contests. But, the place he loved the most would have to be the small, old house on the edge of the field, where its residents, Nathan Ranning and his brother Neil lived (although they had only moved there several years ago from further west, apparently they were old friends of Andrew's parents) and told stories to those who were interested on the relatively large porch, which he had covered with rugs that night.

The sun was just beginning to set when he walked up to the old residence, where children were already waiting with bated breath. The children were tightly circled around the old storyteller in his flannel shirt and three-day old stubble. The fire crackled merrily behind him in the old brick-and-mortar fireplace. Andrew stood in the corner, still within earshot, a smile on his face. And then, Nathan spoke. "Welcome! Welcome to all of you!" he said to his audience, brassy tones ringing throughout the room. "I hope you've all come to listen, because listen you will." He leaned forward a bit, clutching his cane in his hands. "This tale," he continued "has been passed down to me from my father, who got it from his father, who got it from his father before him." The firelight cast shadows around his ears as he spoke, and his voice always seemed to draw whoever wanted to hear. And then, he began.

_ He told a tale of two brothers, the older strong, curious, and brave, the younger one weaker, superstitious, and never very virtuous. While the older brother was out gathering the grain, the younger would hide in his room or run to gamble in the nearby town. One day, when the older brother became busy with running the estate's affairs, he sent his younger brother to town with a bag of coins to buy seed for the farm, and gave him a warning not to stray from that task. Without a second thought, the younger brother left. But, the seed was never bought. Instead, the younger brother gave in to his habits and went to the gambling hall. After a few games, the younger brother became angry, afraid that he'd lose the next game, and got in an argument with another player. It lasted for a long time until, fearful that the man was attacking him, the younger brother assaulted the man, breaking the man's arm and leg._

_ The news soon reached the older brother the next day. Wanting to teach the younger brother a lesson he would not soon forget, the older brother waited until nightfall, and, wearing a mask and cloak, went to the town, the scythe he used to reap the grains held in hand. The older brother found his younger in the jail, asleep for the moment, so the older brother snuck into the jail and used the scythe to hit the bars of the cell, causing the younger brother to open his eyes and stare straight into the face of (what looked like) the Grim Reaper himself. The older brother spoke with a soft voice of what the younger brother had done and promised that, if the younger brother did such a deed again, he would seal him inside a magical bag for all eternity. As superstitious as the younger brother was, he was terrified of this proposition and cried out that he would change his ways. Satisfied, the older brother quickly moved backwards into the shadows cast by the moonlight and, to his brother, it seemed as if he had disappeared._

_The older brother told his younger much later of his ruse, but the younger had learned his lesson and kept his promise to the end of his days._

The fire had burned down very low during his tale, and the storyteller leaned back, satisfied with the night's tale and the wide-eyed kids looking back at him, obviously a little shook up from his tale. As they filtered out, going back to their waiting parents, Andrew slid on to the porch and sat in the chair next to Nathan, usually reserved for his brother.

"Neil not here tonight, huh?" Andrew asked Nathan. "He missed a good story." "Don't worry." Nathan replied, eyes half closed. "He's listening."

Andrew leaned back a little, thinking of the story. Nathan's stories were always good, if not a little weird. Last year, he had told a tale of a man who defeated evil, soul-eating creatures with the sword of a close friend. Understandably, the parents were upset, but Andrew enjoyed it.

"It's a shame you weren't there, Andrew." the old man said, breaking up Andrew's thoughts. "If anyone could have resolved that issue, it would have been you. No doubt about it."

"Nah, I kind of doubt it." Andrew replied, shaking his head.

"No, really," Nathan persisted, his eye cracked open a bit. "I've seen you in school, breaking up fights n' stuff, no matter who it was or what it was about. Even with adults."

"Well, not all of those turned out well, you know." Adam commented, wincing in memory of a few negotiations turned… sour. Three bruises still hung around from the last time.

"But what about the others?" Nathan asked. "Those seemed to work out well enough. I'm telling you, you've got a gift, boy. A gift many others wish they had. You were born under special skies." Nathan leaned forward, clutching his cane, and creakily stood up. "Eh…" he softly groaned and started towards his door.

"Well, it looks like I'll have to use those talents somewhere else now." Nathan turned around at the bitterness in Andrew's voice. "Yeah, I know." Nathan replied. Andrew had tried to break up the wrong fight, and the ensuing event had caused the principal of the school to recommend that Andrew's parents send him to another school. The problem was, there was no other school in the area. Andrew would have to go somewhere else.

"Well, ya' know," Nathan said. Andrew looked up from his moping and stared quizzically at the old man. "I did have a talk with your folks, and I convinced them to let me take you to a new place." Andrew's face lightened a bit. _At least I'll have someone I know with me._ he thought. "I even suggested the school. They were a bit hesitant, but they agreed in the end." Andrew was even more curious.

"What school?" he asked, although a bit suspiciously. "Oh, you've probably never heard of it. It would ruin the surprise, anyway." Nathan replied with a wave of his hand, but Andrew saw the small smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

"Where is the school, then, if you're being so secretive?"

"Nevada.


End file.
